


You Are Enough

by botanicalbouquet



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Fix It, Fix It Fic, Fixing Canon, Fluff, M/M, Possible Spoilers, canonverse, cas is back from super mega hell, castiel is back from hell, dean confesses his love, idk what else to add lmao I think that’s enough, if you count Castiel being dragged back from supermegahell as angst, okay so I felt the urge to write my own ending in light of the finale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-20
Updated: 2020-11-20
Packaged: 2021-03-10 07:47:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27639755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/botanicalbouquet/pseuds/botanicalbouquet
Summary: In light of the show’s finale, I have crawled out of my Supernatural hibernation to write something to sort of fix the ending. So here’s your warning for partial spoilers for the last few episodes of the last season.In summary, a quick one shot where Castiel makes a return from his hell banishment and I try to fix the lack of Castiel justice in the show finale. I hope yall enjoy!
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Kudos: 25





	You Are Enough

**Author's Note:**

> THIS IS YOUR LAST SPOILER WARNING FOR THE LAST FEW EPISODES OF THE LAST SEASON!
> 
> Full disclosure - I haven’t seen the show in years (apart from watching the Castiel confesses his love scene on youtube) so please try to ignore any and all canon errors! I just felt the burning desire to write something that made a small attempt at fixing the pure injustice Castiel faced in the finale. If you got this far, happy reading and I hope you enjoy! xo 
> 
> Betad by my wonderful friend so a huge thank you to her, I’m so appreciative that you’ll read and help fix my ramblings at 5am!

“Cas?” 

The raspy voice was enough to draw anyone back from even the tightest grasp of sleep. It was drawing him to the surface, back to his vessel and into a conscious state once more. His eyes flickered open and, as suspected, he was met with widened, glistening green eyes staring down at him. He seemed worried. Why was he worried?

Oh, right. Hell. He half expected everything to come flooding back all at once, adding to the blank slate of his mind that couldn’t recall much at all before he opened his eyes. Instead of flooding, it dripped like a leaky faucet. Glimpses of darkness and screaming and suffering flickered in his consciousness and he was tempted to just close his eyes momentarily just to try and make it stop. However, part of him was insistent that this was necessary. That he needed to remember. That those green eyes would continue to insistently stare at him until he remembered something about what happened and where he was.

“Hello, Dean.” He eventually managed despite the dryness of his entire mouth. As he tried to move, he watched as Dean’s brow furrowed. He was on comfortable sheets and the smell of the room, since he couldn’t see much more than Dean and the ceiling from this angle, seemed awfully familiar. 

“Don’t try to move too much, alright? So you remember me, what else do you remember?” Dean was trying not to press too much or be too insistent with his questions but it almost felt like an itch you had to scratch. If he didn’t ask then he’d get very little answers but if he asked too much then Castiel could suffer for it.

Castiel was almost too concerned with the sheets underneath his fingers to concentrate on the questions. They seemed like words that just brushed by his ears rather than actually registering as valid questions. Despite the mild protestation from Dean, he used his hands to slowly push himself up into a sitting position. The room spun dangerously and he shut his eyes tightly to try and keep himself grounded. It was only when he felt as though he wasn’t going to fall off of the Earth that he opened his eyes again. It was one of the bedrooms in the bunker. He recognised it to be Dean’s quite easily since he’d been in here before.

It was a comfort to see the battered boots that sat next to the desk, the stack of books that he’d remembered shoving into Dean’s arms for some sort of research, the plaid over shirt hung over a chair, a variety of knives littered across various surfaces.

“Take it easy, man. We’re at the bunker. D’ya recognise it?” The words were hesitant but very much there and Castiel actually processed it this time, his blue eyes flickering from the nightstand to Dean’s face. 

“I do.” Castiel confirmed, eyes searching Dean’s face and lingering on every freckle for a moment before scanning over him. He couldn’t see any obvious injuries or anything but, then again, he didn’t know how long he’d been gone for. 

“I’m fine,” Dean reassured him, silently understanding what Castiel was doing when the eyes scanned over him. 

Castiel just huffed and gave a short nod, as if that translated to some sort of satisfied ‘okay’. It was a few beats of silence later, or rather silence apart from the buzzing from the heating unit, that he actually opened his mouth to speak again. “How long was I gone?”

Dean made a look that was halfway between a grimace and a smile, as if he were sad to admit how long Castiel was dead for. “You were gone a month or two. Was a total bitch figuring out how to get your feathery ass back here without your feathery ass to help us.” He chuckled halfheartedly in an attempt to keep the tone light for both their sakes. “But you’re here and... well, I guess that’s kinda all that matters, huh?”

Castiel couldn’t keep the small smile off of his lips, the edges twitching up a little bit at a time. As the grogginess began to wear off, he was somehow filled with a sense of relief to be back here with Dean.

Then he remembered their last conversation. He remembered those words that he’d said to Dean and wondered if perhaps they hadn’t been taken so well. But Dean was here, sat on the edge of the bed and watching him as if he were fragile and would be launched back to hell at any moment. Surely those words couldn’t have been taken horrendously if Dean were sat here and not Sam. Castiel had no doubt in his mind that Dean would have tasked Sam with Castiel Watch if he were trying to avoid him altogether.

“I was in hell. Now I’m here,” the words were matter of fact but Castiel spoke them to catch up to his body. To catch up with where Dean was, or at least halfway there. “My body aches, is this a normal thing that humans experience regularly?” He asked, nose wrinkling a little as he looked down. 

Dean had to laugh a little at that, hoping the dim light of the lamp on the nightstand would hide the way his ears heated up a little. “Nah, it’s not an all the time thing. It’s probably just a you were dragged out of hell and now you’re back here thing. Figured a bed might be best for that.” He patted the space next to him, pinching at a wrinkle in the sheets to avoid the words that he knew were about to bubble to the surface. 

Castiel was about to speak again, to say something about the bed, when Dean interrupted him rather suddenly. “Think we uh... we need to talk maybe about the thing.” He paused, only elaborating when he realised Castiel was beginning to become confused. The slight squint of his eyes was rather telling. “The thing you said before... yeah.” He made a gesture with his hands as if that were enough to substitute for saying ‘before he was dragged to hell’.

“And what exactly do you want us to talk about? I believe I said everything that was on my conscience at the time. I did not have much choice in the timing, I’m afraid, but I said almost everything I needed to say.” Castiel wasn’t sure what Dean wanted to come out of this but, by the look on his face, he assumed it was Dean that needed to do the talking. He gave a silent and encouraging nod and reached out one hand. His other arm kept him propped up whilst he reached the other out, pressing his palm to Dean’s upper arm carefully. He half expected him to shrug it off or push him away or walk out of the room. He didn’t. Instead, Dean just opened his mouth and closed it several times, struggling to make the words he needed to say come out cohesively. 

“What you said about me, uh... well, I dunno if any of it’s true. But uh. Shit.” He dragged a hand down his face, careful not to dislodge the hand on his upper arm that was grounding him. “I can’t say if any of that stuff is true about me but I know what I think of you. And what I think is uh... you’re crazy selfless, Cas. You pulled me up and saved my stupid ass more times than I can count. You’re always doing stuff for other people and making sure other people are safe before yourself. Sacrificed yourself so we’d all be safe. And that ain’t just an angel thing, I know that, it’s because you’re you. You’re Castiel. All kinds of kind and.... Good. You’re just good. In the best way possible.”

Dean hesitated for a moment, feeling as though he were treading on eggshells and at risk of breaking something precious, but then lifted a hand. That hand curled around the one on his upper arm carefully. His eyes met Castiel’s and the tension was tangible between them, all the things that had once been unsaid almost being fully out there in the open. There was so much more to be said, so many more things they needed to say and do, but it was almost as if they didn’t matter in that moment. What mattered was this, them just being together and alive. 

“And I love ya, Cas.” Dean spoke, voice low and raspy and barely there, after the longest few moments of silence. “I love you.”

It felt as though something broke inside Castiel’s chest and he wondered if it were the tension of not knowing how Dean would react. When Castiel had confessed his love, it felt as though Dean was holding back from him and scared of any sort of admission in that moment. But here they were. They were alone and sat in close quarters and Dean Winchester had just confessed his love for him in return.

“I love you too, Dean.”

The words were enough. Their love was enough. They were enough. Neither one of them could tell who leaned in first but their lips met, both of them moving in sync and like they’d waited for this moment forever. Realistically, they had. They’d been dancing around this moment for far too long. Apparently, Castiel dying and returning from hell was all it took for this moment to finally happen. Dean moved to close the gap between them, shuffling closer on the mattress as Castiel’s hand slid into his soft sandy hair. It felt like being able to breathe after the longest time of nothing. Both of them had the same feeling of not knowing how to stop now that they had started but when they eventually broke for air, their foreheads pressed together. They stayed close, Dean’s hand now curled into the front of Castiel’s shirt and Castiel’s hand still tucked into his hair. Their other hands remained joined, fingers intertwined like two puzzle pieces that fit together through some twist of fate. And in this moment, it was enough. They felt complete.


End file.
